Jesse's whisper was barely audible. "They sang over Pam's voice—the only piece of her I had left."

His tears flowed freely now, grief consuming him. Becky held him close, murmuring his nickname, "Jess." Danny's gaze shifted to DJ and Kimmy, and he gestured sternly.

"Kimmy, go home," he said. "DJ, to your room."

Becky eased Jesse onto the couch, her legs tucked under her. His whole body trembled with emotion, and she cradled him in her arms.

Danny stepped into DJ's room, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. The air was thick with tension—the aftermath of DJ and Kimmy accidentally singing over Pam's voice on the old cassette. He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words.

"DJ," he began gently, "can we talk about what happened?"

DJ sat on her bed, her eyes red from tears. She nodded, her voice small. "Yeah, Dad."

Danny and DJ descended the stairs, the weight of their conversation still hanging in the air. Danny glanced at DJ, concern etching his features. "Do you want to apologize?" he asked quietly.

DJ hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, Dad."

Becky stood near the couch, cradling Jesse's sleeping form in her arms. His tear-streaked face was peaceful now, grief momentarily eased by exhaustion. She leaned toward Danny and whispered, "Let him rest. We'll talk later."

DJ hesitated, her footsteps faltering as she approached Jesse. Her eyes widened, and fear etched her features. She had witnessed the emotional turmoil in the room—the grief, the accidental singing over Pam's voice—and now, standing before Jesse, she felt the weight of it all.

"Jesse," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm so sorry."

Jesse's gaze met hers, and for a moment, they both held the pain of their shared loss.

The afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Jesse had dozed off on the couch, exhaustion finally catching up with him. But his peaceful nap was about to be interrupted.

Becky tiptoed over, mischief dancing in her eyes. She crawled under the covers, her fingers lightly scratching Jesse's back. His eyes fluttered open, and he squinted at her.

"Too early," he mumbled, his voice still heavy with sleep.

Becky smirked, leaning in closer. "Oh, Jesse," she whispered. "I've got something for you." She held up a small device—a period simulator.

Jesse sat up, confusion etching his features. "What do you want with that thing?"

Becky's smirk widened. "Just a little surprise," she said. "Let's see how you handle it."

Jesse shook his head, his expression a mix of amusement and disbelief. "No way," he protested. But Becky was relentless, closing the gap between them. Her smirk widened, and she whispered, "It's not bad, I promise."

With a theatrical sigh, Jesse lifted his shirt, revealing his toned abs.

Becky held up the period simulator—a small, innocuous device that would mimic the discomfort of menstrual cramps. She pressed a button, and Jesse's eyes widened as a subtle vibration began.

"See?" Becky said, her tone teasing. "Not so bad."

Jesse shot her a mock glare. "You're evil," he declared, but there was a hint of laughter in his voice. Becky leaned in, her lips brushing his cheek.

Becky and Jesse descended the stairs, the afternoon light casting long shadows across the hallway. Jesse's steps were slow, deliberate, and his face had turned an interesting shade of green. He looked like he was about to throw up.

Becky shot him a concerned glance. "Jesse," she said softly, "are you okay?"

He swallowed hard, gripping the banister. "I think that period simulator was a bit too realistic," he admitted, his voice strained.

Becky stifled a laugh. "Well," she said, "at least now you have a tiny taste of what it's like."

Jesse shot her a mock glare. "Next time," he muttered, "I'll stick to my guitar."

Jesse leaned heavily on the kitchen chair, his face still a shade paler than usual. The kids, Joey, and Danny walked in, their eyes widening as they took in his distressed expression.

"Jesse," Joey exclaimed, "you look like you've seen a ghost!"

Danny raised an eyebrow. "Or maybe he's just discovered the joys of simulated cramps," he quipped.

DJ chimed in, her tone teasing. "Uncle Jesse, are you experiencing some 'monthly discomfort'?"

Jesse shot her a desperate look. "DJ," he muttered, "shut up."

Becky, mischief dancing in her eyes, decided to crank up the period simulator to its highest setting before removing it. Jesse's face turned an alarming shade of pale, and he clung to the kitchen counter for support.

"Becky," he gasped, "I think I've experienced childbirth."

She chuckled, deftly removing the device. "Now you know why we women deserve all the chocolate," she teased.

Jesse shot her a grateful look. "Next time," he vowed, "I'll stick to my guitar solos."

Jesse collapsed onto the bed, his face contorted in pain. He rubbed his stomach and groaned, regretting every moment of the simulated cramps. Becky, ever resourceful, shut the bedroom door with her back, creating a cocoon of privacy.

"Becky," Jesse managed to say between groans, "you're officially banned from any future experiments."

She chuckled, sitting down beside him. "Deal," she said, her hand soothingly rubbing his back. "But admit it—you've never appreciated chocolate more."

Jesse's pale face cracked into a weak smile. "Fine," he conceded. "Chocolate is a miracle cure."